


A Change in Reality

by Tarlan



Series: Reality Check [1]
Category: V (1983)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1993-03-01
Updated: 1993-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-13 02:21:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler reflects on his feelings for Donovan during the journey to Chicago as more of his torture comes back to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Change in Reality

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Deutsch available: [Eine Veränderung der Realität](https://archiveofourown.org/works/133180) by [Tarlan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan)



> First published in **Uncharted Waters 7** in 1993

As the sun sank below the low hills, Ham gazed up and sighed. They had lived through another day. The thought depressed him and he shook himself as if he could throw those despondent thoughts out of his head, but there was so much going on in his mind these days he doubted that it would make any difference. Behind him he could hear the small camp of refugees starting to move about in preparation for the nightly trek. Ham rolled his head from side to side, trying to stretch out the tension from the long day watch.

"You okay, bro'?"

He glanced across at his companion and smiled slightly. There were few people that Ham felt that he could truly relax around. Chris Faber was one, Mike Donovan had been another. Ham sighed as he thought of the tall resistance leader. Two months ago he would have rated Mike Donovan as one of his closest friends but that was before Charles had twisted his mind around. Now he was not sure what to believe. He smiled grimly as he remembered the way the others had rallied around Mike to protect him. None of them had understood the true extent of Tyler's conversion, none except Chris. They saw 'Mike the Victim' but Ham's tampered mind saw 'Mike the Destroyer'. Ham was the true victim for he was the one who had been subjected to mental and physical abuse by a creature wearing Donovan's face. Chris was the only one who truly understood that he had to escape and when the opportunity had arisen to leave the LA Resistance group, Ham had jumped at it. He needed time away to sift through the remnants of his shredded memory. He smiled once more as he thought of Chris's unwavering support.

Donovan had tried to stop him from leaving, naively believing that exposure to his 'intended victim' would counteract the many hours of torture that he had undergone, not realizing that every moment Ham spent with him merely re-enforced the implanted images. Ham needed to be free of the sight and sound of his 'friend' so he could rid himself of the nightmares. He thought back to the dreams.

Two weeks ago the images of Donovan's betrayal had been sharp and the nightmares had been consistent. Always it was Donovan with his arm around his beautiful wife, laughing and stroking his daughter's face while the milky-white coffins floated by and he had hated Donovan with an intensity that left no room for doubt. Since leaving LA behind the dreams had started to change, now it was the total chaos of his conflicting memories and emotions that filled his sleep with dreams too terrifying and too confusing to understand. Ham knew there had to be a reason. His mind was filled with images, some were real, others implanted or distortions of the truth but trying to decide which was which was the true cause of his anxiety, and the source of his nightmares.

He glanced down into the compound and watched silently as the others began to roll up the sleeping bags and equipment. He could afford the luxury as he knew that Chris was watching the surrounding countryside. They were still three days away from the 'red dust' zone and every moment they remained in Visitor territory was dangerous. He spotted Robin as she wandered across the small campsite towards one of the trucks, her slight figure weighed down by bags. He never knew what to feel for the young woman. She had been raped by a Visitor, had given birth to the Starchild yet she was still so much of a child herself. Ham knew that she was barely nineteen years of age yet so many people forgot that when faced with her extraordinary daughter, Elizabeth. Suddenly, he felt like a fraud. Everyone here had witnessed the deaths of family and loved ones yet here he was, hiding behind his own self-pity just because he had also suffered at the Visitor's hands.

Chris saw the sudden grimace but did not speak. He could only guess at the thoughts that whirled around Tyler's brain and hope that the man would someday open up enough for him to get through this self-imposed prison. He knew that the nightmares were becoming worse. Back in LA, he would watch as Tyler threshed his way through the dreams, his features distorting into a mask of pure hatred before relaxing as he sank back into a restless sleep. Over the last two days, Chris found himself shaking Tyler to awaken him from nightmares that seemed to follow him back to consciousness. The intense hatred had been replaced by wide-eyed horror and confusion. The open, unseeing eyes looking as if they were staring into the depths of hell. Chris shivered as he remembered how frightened and disorientated Ham had appeared as those unknown images slowly released their grip. Now, Chris was as frightened of sleeping as Ham, but for a different reason. Ham was afraid of the dreams and the loss of control but Chris was afraid that he would lose Ham to the nightmares if he wasn't there to bring him back. He wondered how much more either of them could take. As Tyler slept so little, Chris limited himself to grabbing sleep whenever Ham was awake and fully occupied. He needed to be near his side for the rest of the time, just in case. His thoughts were pulled back by the deep, melodic voice at his side.

"We'd better get going. I'm hoping we'll make it into Kansas before we have to lie low again."

Chris nodded. If they could travel through both day and night they would have reached Chicago days ago but traveling through the daylight hours was asking to be the main course at the Visitor's next meal.

"I sure do wish there'd been an easier way of doing this."

"You and me both but, short of stealing a squadron of skyfighters, we have no choice."

Chris sighed as the full weight of his responsibilities fell upon his shoulders. It had been so much easier working for the CIA but Langley was just so much rubble after the second attack and to be honest, Chris did not miss the CIA. Working with Ham Tyler had been his only reason for staying as long as he had. He had started out feeling respect for the older operative but the ensuing years had brought about a kind of brotherhood that was thicker than blood. He loved Ham Tyler like he was family. He would never leave him willingly. Chris was sure that Ham knew this but the older man had never complained or tried to shake him off. In his own way, Chris knew that Ham loved him too.

Tyler gained the attention of the other guard and ordered him to keep a sharp look-out while he and Chris started the camp rolling. Ham smiled to himself again. He felt like that fellow in the old western series, Wagon Train. The similarities in their positions was uncanny but that old wagonmaster had never had to contend with attacks from the air by human-eating lizards. Suddenly, Tyler felt old and tired. He knew it was just the lack of sleep and the thought of the night ahead. He had grabbed so little sleep since the start of this journey and even that had been tainted by the nightmares. He silently admonished himself for taking on too many watches. Tonight he would trust one of the others to stand his guard duty. As much as he dreaded it, he needed to sleep, for the worst part of the journey would occur near the 'Red dust' border. He could not afford to be tired or slow when they reached Illinois.

Once again, Ham was impressed by the efficiency of the ragged group as they packed up the camp and when the convoy was ready to roll, he and Chris quickly made their way to their respective vehicles. Ham took the passenger seat in the front truck knowing that Chris had taken position at the end of the convoy.

He spoke through the hand set, "Okay, let's move them out."

At his command, the driver started his engine and the van slowly trundled forward. Ham watched through the wing mirror as the rest of the vehicles began to follow their leader. They would make their best time during the remaining hours of dusk but once the night fell their pace would be slowed considerably for they couldn't afford to advertise their presence by turning on the headlamps. Ham was pleased to see that the convoy of seven vehicles had picked up the pace to sixty miles an hour. Another smile crossed his lips as he thought of being pulled over by some yokel cop for surpassing the speed limit but he doubted that there was anyone left to care.

Several hours had passed with barely a whisper. The darkness seemed to force an unnatural silence upon the occupants of the van giving Tyler time to think. He glanced across at the driver. At one time, he would have made it his business to know all about the thin-faced man who shared the cab with him but now, he couldn't care less. That thought shook him. He ought to care. He was responsible for the safety of this man -and the others. He studied the face in the dim light. The driver's name was Allan and from the small amount of conversation they had shared, Tyler knew he had once been an architect. He chuckled softly to himself. Allan glanced quickly at the normally silent man, a questioning look on his face, and for once Ham felt like answering.

"Judging by the state of Los Angeles we're gonna NEED architects once this war is over."

Tyler saw the tell-tale sign of light flashing off teeth as Allan smiled broadly. Neither of them spoke again for a while but the depression in the cab seemed to have lifted slightly. An hour later, Tyler and Allan swapped places with another two in the back. The convoy stopped only long enough for the change over and was trundling along before either could find somewhere to sit in the rear of the van. They carefully moved around the cramped interior, trying not to stand on anyone as the van rocked through one pothole after another. The roads had gone to ruin since the Visitor's had landed. There was no-one left to repair them. They used a low torch to guide their way, knowing that the light was shielded from the outside by the heavy blanket that partitioned the cab from the rest of the interior. In the pale light, Ham saw Robin look up at him with a trusting expression and he wished that she had stayed in the second vehicle. It was not that he didn't like her but he was scared of destroying that innocent trust. Someone made space and so he lay down on the hard floor and curled up into a ball. He stiffened as a soft blanket descended upon him and opened his eyes to find Robin barely inches away. She smiled hesitantly and he nodded his thanks, hoping that she could see this in the semi-dark interior. Allan switched off the torch and plunged them into darkness.

This was the worst time for him. Awake, he could control the twisting of his mind but sleep robbed him of that precious control. Well, there was no choice, he was too tired to stay awake even if he wanted to but he made an effort nonetheless. Tyler never knew when he slid into sleep but the dreams, never far from the surface, quickly rose up in his mind demanding attention. Images swam before him, his beautiful Eurasian wife with her dark, glossy hair and her wide smile of perfect white teeth. In her arms his daughter squirmed, her small arms reaching for him and he saw his own arms reach out to gather the small body against him. She gurgled and his heart felt like it would melt with love for her, she was so perfect, so beautiful, just like her mother. Ham looked up to gaze with love into his daughter's dark eyes but drew back in shock as those eyes turned to fiery, orange orbs. Confused, he held his daughter tight to his chest so he could no longer see those eyes but then held her away in horror as a forked tongue flicked from those baby-soft lips to caress his cheek. Her face shimmered and coalesced into a distortion of his daughter and another. His mind supplied a name - Diana. He tried to push the woman-child away in disgust but she clung to him, caressing his body with his daughter's hands.

*NO*, he screamed, and tried to pull away from the obscene sight of his three-year old daughter with Diana's face fondling him intimately. His mind screamed over and over in denial and he struck out in blind terror at the hands that grasped his arms. The sound of his name being called in pain and panic drew him away from the terrible nightmare and he awoke as arms wrapped around him once more, shaking him back to awareness. Ham looked up into Robin's torch-lit face and read the fear and concern in her young eyes. He stopped struggling and allowed his erratic breathing time to slow before he looked up into her face once more.

"Just a nightmare", he said, trying to reassure both her and the concerned group that huddled in the back of the van, then he turned his head away once more.

He felt tears sting behind his eyes and wished that he could release them but there was no time for tears. There never was. Robin released him but stayed close. Chris had asked her to watch over Ham and she had given her promise. Tomorrow, she would be sporting a massive bruise on the side of her face where Ham had struck her but that didn't matter. He needed her and she would not fail him. She bit her lip as she contemplated what she could say to him. She wanted to take away the pain but knew from her own experience that he would have to meet her half-way. In a soft low-voice, so as not to disturb the others, she began to speak.

"When I found out about Brian I was terrified. I didn't know what to do or what to say. I wanted to tell someone, anyone, but I was so ashamed of the memories and I felt so dirty, inside and out, that...", she sighed deeply and reached out to touch his stiff shoulder. "Ham, you have to let go or you will end up destroying yourself... just as I tried to destroy myself. You and the others gave me the strength to go on. Why won't you let us give you our strength in return?"

She waited but there was no movement beneath her hand, no sign that Tyler had heard her words and she sighed again, her young heart feeling suddenly ancient and heavy. Tears gathered behind her eyes but, unlike Tyler, she was not ashamed to let them fall. She buried her head against his shoulder and did not allow the lack of response to check her silent tears.

Hours later she awoke to find Tyler gone but the blanket was wrapped around her carefully and she smiled weakly, knowing that it was the only way he knew how to show his feelings. She lay back and thought about the dark stranger. She loved him like an older brother. He was always there, with both the kind word and the reprimand - mainly the reprimand - she laughed gently to herself. Her thoughts turned back to the old, care-free days. Her best friend had an elder brother who was just like Ham. Always picking on her and making her life a misery and Sally had hated him right up to the day when he saved her life. He attacked two Visitors who were trying to force her into a collection van. Her brother had died that day. Part of Sally died with him leaving behind the tough shell of a resistance fighter still filled with regret for the words left unsaid. She had died on V-day while releasing party balloons filled with red dust. A Visitor skyfighter had shot her down without a second thought. So many deaths. So many ruined lives. The tears pricked the back of her eyes once more as she wondered if it would ever end.

Up ahead in the cab, Tyler turned to the driver.

"Let's start looking for a place to stop. It'll be daybreak in less than two hours."

Allan nodded and they both scanned the road carefully, hoping to spot some natural formation that might afford them some protection from the Visitor forces. Another hour passed before Allan nudged Tyler. He pointed towards a copse of trees that bordered a small farm building. It was the only place they had seen in miles so it would have to do. Tyler knew they must have all the camouflage in place before the first rays of the sun spread across the horizon. The flat landscape meant they would have barely forty-five minutes. He thumbed the open channel on the handset.

"We're stopping here."

At his command, the other vehicles followed the well-learned procedure of stopping exactly where they were. Allan turned off the engine and allowed the van to cruise forward of its own momentum, but as the van silently coasted to a halt, Tyler jumped out, his SMG in his hand. From years of experience, he knew that Chris had jumped out of the last vehicle and was working his way towards the darkened building. Through the early morning light, he saw Chris, gun in hand, making his way around to a side window. With a sign-language honed to perfection through many years of usage, they carefully entered the slightly dilapidated building. They moved quickly through the downstairs and cellar looking for any sign of habitation. With gun at the ready, Chris waited at the bottom of the stairs as Ham slowly ascended, his body hugging the wall for the small amount of protection that it could give. He gained the top landing with no incident and waited while Chris climbed the stairs in a similar fashion. Ham quietly eased open the first door and glanced inside being careful not to allow his body to be exposed to the room's interior. Nothing. Together, they checked the remaining rooms and attic but the house was as deserted as it appeared. Once they were sure that all was clear they hastened outside to help get the vehicles under cover. With only thirty minutes left until sunrise, every man, woman and child rushed about to ensure the safety of the group.

The first skyfighter came over thirty-five minutes later and the small group of humans huddled together under the cover of the camouflage netting, guns at the ready but the skyfighter did not deviate one centimeter from it's path.

Ham went back into the old farmhouse and looked through the cupboards just in case there was anything useful left behind. Many houses had been stripped by the Visitors once their human occupants had been taken away for processing but this one was remarkably untouched. It was too far from 'civilization' to be bothered with. A small plaque on the kitchen wall drew Ham's attention. It was a picture of a little girl in ruby-red slippers. The name supplied itself to Tyler's weary brain, Dorothy. Hopefully, they too had reached Kansas. He stared out the dirty window at the flat landscape that had once stretched for miles with fields of golden Wheat but now it was as empty and barren as the rest of the planet. Soon there would be nothing left of his world. The Visitor's had destroyed everything they touched just as they had destroyed their own planet. He sat down on a stool and thought about those old science fiction movies that used to enthrall him as a child. 'War of the Worlds' sprang into his mind. In that film, humanity had lost and as the hero and heroine huddled together in a small church, nature itself had turned upon the invaders and destroyed them where man had failed.

*God, if you are up there, help us now*, Tyler silently prayed and then berated himself for being so naive as to believe that there was any help to be gained from that source. He had seen too much misery and suffering to believe in anything more than the SMG in his hand. Faith really was just for nuns and amateurs as far as he was concerned.

"Hey, bro', I got you some coffee."

Tyler glanced around and took the offered mug from his associate's large hands. The warmth of the mug dispelled the coldness of the long night and he nodded gratefully. Chris carefully scrutinized his friend. Robin had told him of the nightmare, she could hardly deny that something had happened judging by the dark bruise that marred her pretty features. She had defended Ham like a bear protecting a cub, an attitude that had made Faber smile broadly. Without knowing or asking, Ham had gained yet another guardian. The smile quickly dropped as Tyler turned towards him.

"What are you grinning at?"

The smile returned but this time it was deeper, more intimate and Chris let it broaden as he saw Tyler turn away in embarrassment. Tyler listened as Faber got to his feet and left the room. Only then did he allow himself the luxury of a smile to acknowledge the deep friendship that he shared with Chris. He yawned suddenly and looked around the old kitchen once more. He decided to sleep in the farmhouse, away from the others. This would afford him more privacy and, perhaps, without an audience, the nightmares would stay away. He went back outside, informed Chris of his intentions and then returned with a blanket to curl up in a dark corner.

It seemed as if the dreams started moments after his eyes closed. It was the old LA dream. Once again he saw his beautiful wife and child with Mike Donovan. Donovan had one arm wrapped around his wife's slim waist and was gently stroking his daughter's soft cheek with the other. The trio laughed happily at something Donovan said. Tyler reached out towards them but they floated back out of reach behind a conveyor belt that had suddenly appeared between them. They smiled as the milky, human-shaped cocoons moved along the belt. Tyler could see the outlines of the sleeping occupants. He tore his distraught face away and glanced back up as Donovan and his family starting laughing once more, their fingers pointing at an encapsulated woman. Suddenly, the dream wavered and Donovan was standing on his own laughing even louder. Tyler looked at the belt to see what was so funny and his stomach twisted with horror at the sight of his little girl battering at the inside of her milky-white coffin. He tried to reach her but his legs were like lead and Donovan continued to laugh as he witnessed Tyler's impotence. Ham screamed at Donovan to stop the belt. Donovan stopped laughing and merely stood there with a fatuous grin across his face. Even in his dream, Tyler was half-expecting the nightmare to end here, just as it always did, but a sudden tearing inside his mind brought new images. Tyler reached forward and grabbed the front of Donovan's jacket as Donovan's once familiar face distorted grotesquely. Arms stronger than any humans lashed out and grabbed him, the conveyor belt disappeared as he was pulled into a crushing embrace. Donovan's deformed and wavering features descended upon his own and he felt hard lips take his mouth in a loveless kiss, a forked tongue forced it's way between his teeth to flick against the inside of his mouth and throat, seeming to taste him and he almost gagged. He forced the terrifying Donovan-like creature away by brute strength and in his minds eye, the face of Donovan transformed itself into it's true form - Charles! The alien commander laughed and took his mouth again, almost chewing on his lips, and then moved lower to bite his exposed throat. Tyler's mind suddenly understood. It wasn't Donovan at all, it never had been. It was Charles. His wife and daughter were dead, buried long ago in the rubble of a little church in Vietnam. Ham's mind reeled at the shock of this new discovery. Even in his dreams he had faced the death of his family but his mind had locked away the rest his degradation as too horrific to bear, but now, the true memories seared his mind. He felt himself being forced across the laboratory table. He was naked, his clothes vanishing like mist on a summer's morning but this time it wasn't Donovan's insane features inches from his own, it was Charles. Ham lashed out with all his might, trying to throw off the heavy alien weight that turned him around and pushed him face down onto the hard table but all to no avail. He saw Diana's features floating above his face, alight with sadistic pleasure. Suddenly, he felt the alien commander enter him, the pain sharp and sickening and he screamed out to the newly formed face.

"I know who you are!.. I know you!.. I know you!"

Ham awoke suddenly to find himself enclosed in strong arms. He fought for a moment until he realized it was Chris.

"Chris?... he raped me... Charles raped me!" and then he cried for the first time in twenty-five years.

Over the next hour, Chris listened as Tyler, still held in his arms, described what Charles and Diana had done. The way they had distorted precious memories of love and friendship. Ham sobbed as he described the conveyor belt with it's milky-white cocoons, the young woman, his frightened daughter and the others that passed along the conveyor belt in front of him. He told him of the horror of being unable to stop it, unable to help those people or even himself and, finally, he told Chris about the rape. Even now he could not be certain whether Charles had really raped his body as well as his mind but, at least he had restored those precious memories of his family and friend to the place where they belonged. When he finally slept, it was the deep sleep of healing with no bad dreams and when he awoke hours later, Chris was still there with his arms around him, holding him like a delicate child. He rubbed his hands across eyes that had gritted through un-wiped tears and leaned into the quiet strength of his associate. He felt at peace for the first time in months.

Two days later, Ham led the convoy of refugees into Chicago. The Illinois branch of the World Liberation Front was waiting for them just inside the City Limits and as the convoy ground to a halt, everyone began to cheer. Ham and Chris found themselves being mobbed by an elated crowd and they quickly ran the gauntlet of hugs from grateful refugees and other well-wishers. Jack Wallace, the leader of the Chicago WLF, pushed his way through the crowd and grabbed Tyler into a bear-hug with a roar of jubilation. Tyler knew the huge man from the days before he and Chris had joined the LA Resistance so he didn't struggle as the large man lifted him off the ground and swung him around. Instead he protested loudly to be put down but ended up laughing as loudly as the other.

Hours later there was only the four of them left. Ham, Chris, Jack and Robin sat in the corner booth of a small bar sipping bourbon. As he felt the smooth liquid warm his insides, Ham's thoughts strayed back to his last sight of the tall leader of the LA Resistance. Mike was leaning against the door frame, his head held high but his chameleon eyes were already dark with the pain of loss. Deliberately, Ham had kept their goodbye's short, both men aware of the ever-increasing distance between them that had been caused by the Conversion. He could still feel his friend's distress as Mike fought against clutching hold of him and begging him to stay. Despite the dreams, Ham could not bear to witness the effect of that final rejection. His thoughts were dragged back to the present.

"I've been looking forward to your arrival. I've got a few 'errands' for you to run."

Ham looked up into the twinkling pale blue eyes. He had spent the passed two days thinking hard about what he should do next and suddenly he knew. There really had been only one decision he could make, and if he were honest with himself, there never had been any other choices.

"I'm going back." He waited patiently as Jack and Robin vented their shock and confusion. Chris remained silent. "I've got a score to settle with Charles and Diana." Ham looked directly at Chris when he spoke next. "And I've got friends there who mean a hell of a lot to me." He paused to let his words sink in. "Are you with me?"

Chris smiled as he thought of Mike Donovan, Julie Parrish, Elizabeth, Kyle Bates, Willie and the others. The friends they had left behind.

"Where else, bro?"

Ham's answering smile was soft and infinitely tender as his thoughts drifted back to Mike Donovan. On their own they would make good time, perhaps be back in LA within three weeks.

THE END


End file.
